


Hyperfertility

by Gabriel4Sam



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Breeding, Breeding Kink, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Knotting, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Mpreg, Omega Obi-Wan, Pregnancy Kink, The clones knock up Obi-Wan all the time, Weird Biology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-22 13:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11381034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabriel4Sam/pseuds/Gabriel4Sam
Summary: In modern Coruscanti society, hyperfertility was almost non existent. The amount a sex an Omega needed to take part in , for that ancient quirk of biology  to manifest itself was insane. Most Omega lived happy lives without the vestigial wombs waking up.When Obi-Wan fell in love with all Ghost Company, they took that as a challenge.





	1. One year after the end of the war

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoddessofRoyalty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoddessofRoyalty/gifts).



> Yes, yes, I know, I already have one story with a bunch of clones making Obi-Wan happy with a lot of babies and mpreg. That doesn't mean I can't have a second one ^^

Boil is the only one home when Obi-Wan comes back. He’s busy cleaning the kitchen of the biggest quarters in the Temple, the quarters that were once a series of training rooms and have become the home of Obi-Wan and his lovers. And for all Ghost Company and a Jedi, place was needed!  

But they hope, oh they hope, that the quarters that are now too big, even for all of them, will soon be just perfect.

They have talked about it, again and again, before reaching a decision together, but Obi-Wan hadn’t told them he had an appointment with the healers. He probably wanted to go alone, if he changed his mind. But the Jedi that enters into the kitchen doesn’t look like a man regretting anything: there is a spring in his walk, a smile on his face. He’s so different from the exhausted man of the war.

“I did it!”

He has the same expression that when he drinks a little too much moonshine but his breath is only full of tea. It’s the middle of the morning, and life and happiness are the only reasons of his smile. Sometimes, joy can make you drunk too.

“I had the implant taken out.”

Boil puts down the pot he was cleaning.

“You….”

Obi-Wan nods, his smile growing and put his arms around his neck.

“No more contraception. No more “ _it’s not the right time_ ”. Just the time my body needs to build another heat. Bant examined me. She said there is no reasons we can’t conceive, that everything is in order. Gave me a shoot of vitamins and a lecture about proper hydration…”

The smile of Boil is now as large as Obi-Wan.

“Did you ask about…?”

“The vestigial wombs? Yes. She wasn’t surprised: she knows me better than a lot of people. I have two, three in total. But she said most people didn’t have the proper reaction, because the body of the omega really needs an insane amount of the chemicals released by knotting. Most people, even in polyamory don’t have enough sex.”

“Didn’t you tell her the vods love a challenge?”

Obi-Wan laughs, his head throws back, and then whines because Boil had seized the opportunity to kiss his throat. They don’t leave the kitchen: the counter are just the good height to shag upon, as experiments already proved, and after, they eat ice-cream on the floor, half naked.

The war is finished, no more death, no more vods lost to an insane conflict. Someone other can rebuilt: Obi-Wan will happily spend his life that way, with men who loves him and that he loves, eating dessert before lunch after getting his brain fucked out, hopefully conceiving the future Jedi generation. He’s on Boil’s lap, his back against his chest and in him, the knot is still hard, pulsing, and he whines a little when he fells it pumping a little more semen in him.

He can’t wait until his heat. He had only spend heats alone before, every five years between implants, and it was normal for him at the time, but now, in love, with strong mates, trusted mates, he can’t wait to spend days naked, in bed with them, on his back, on his knees, losing himself in the desire to be used and breed…He clenches around the knot, and Boils groans, kisses his neck, gives him another spoonful of the sugary treat.

“A credit for your thoughts, love?”

And Obi-Wan tell him everything, Boil’s hand caressing his flat belly, sharing ice-cream and kissing.

The rest of their life is waiting for them.


	2. Two years after the end of the war

When it happens, Obi-Wan is pregnant for the second time. He gave birth, almost one year ago, to an adorable baby girl named Ea-Ger, and he’s now three months pregnant with twins. His lovers and him have had more sex that he thought possible, all over their apartment, sometimes just him and one of them, someone all of them, Obi-Wan basking in the love and lust in the Force, passed from one to another, come leaking of him, his voice hoarse from pleasure and from his lovers fucking his mouth, and adoring every second of it.

A few times, he had needed bacta, at the beginning particularly. The spirit was willing nonetheless the flesh had its limits, but his body finally responded to the chemicals released every time he was knotted.

With every months, it became easier, to the point where he’s almost always wet, ready to open at the first try. Brother after brother rutting into him and his body accepted it, opening for them, wet, tight, welcoming. It makes Cody crazy, and his words, praising Obi-Wan, their beautiful Omega, made for that, made for them, again and again, begging to be breed, never fail to make in turn Obi-Wan go crazy, rolling over, presenting to his Alphas, wordlessly begging for their strength against him, for their seed in him and their teeth against his neck.

It’s perhaps because he thinks of that, of his body calling for them, that’s he’s feeling so hungry for them today. His mates. Not that they neglect him. When he woke up Boil that morning with kisses, the clone made no difficulties to roll Obi-Wan onto his belly, having him against the head of the bed, thrusting deep, hard, until their mate had come from that only. And Waxer in the fresher, just after, encouraged Obi-Wan when he rode him in the bath, his hands crisped on his hips. And when the Jedi abandoned breakfast to suck Longshot under the table, Cody pushed his chair to see better, praising his mouth and then bend him over the table, his own desire awakened, making him curse and beg for it, until the Jedi was dripping come. And now, Obi-Wan really should study that treaty, because Mace asked for his advice, but Boil is reading something, just there, on the same couch, and his mind is stuck on how good it would be if his lover pushed him on the floor and took him, his weight hard on him, his teeth against his neck, and to be stuck there, only capable of taking it, stretched wide and possessed….

“Cyare….”

Cody’s voice, his hand on his jaw. Obi-Wan whines, pushing his head to present his throat, instinctively. He wants to kneel, to push his face against Cody’s crotch, to beg, to pleasure his Alphas, all of them….

“I think you’re entering pre-heat.”

“But I’m already preg….oh. OH.”

Cody’ smile is feral. They have done it. One of his vestigial uterus is becoming active, preparing itself for seed. If they breed him good during the heat, he will be pregnant in that one too, and when he births the twin, the children into the secondary womb will stay inside him, waiting to be ready. He helps Obi-Wan over his tights, kisses him with hunger, then asks his brother:

“Call the other. Everyone close enough to be there in time. One day, no more. He’s advanced I think, we weren’t vigilant enough for the first sign” He bites the pale throat until Obi-Wan goes limp in his grip, then, his voice low, explains against the pale skin:

“I’m gonna knot you, Cyare, hard and good, ok? Then you’ll take the plug, like a good Omega. That will help, you’ll see. That will give you the time to call the Council, to speak with Skywalker. Because after, we’re keeping you naked until we have pumped a whole litter in you. Our good omega, already full of our pups and ready for more….Pounding you for a week, full of our pups. You’ll be so big. Ours, just ours.”

Obi-Wan moans and lets go.


	3. Five years after the end of the war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With so many mates, the inevitable happens: Obi-Wan’s body enters hyperfertility and with it, his lactation increases. The number of children growing, it becomes normal to never see Obi-Wan without a child, or two, against him in the Temple, nursing this new life and having a holoconference, or teaching, or devising in the Council.

 

 

It doesn’t start immediately. At the beginning, as fascinating as it is, the milk is for the child, for that baby girl, their beloved first born. The vods can stay hours watching Obi-Wan and the baby, can observe with infinite patience the beautiful mystery of biological life: their omega nursing their daughter. 

The wonder never stops, it’s still the most beloved spectacle in the entire galaxy for them. But with so many mates, the inevitable happens: Obi-Wan’s body enters hyperfertility and with it, his lactation increases. The number of children growing, it becomes normal to never see Obi-Wan without a child, or two, against him in the Temple, nursing this new life and having a holoconference, or teaching, or devising in the Council.

But sometimes, it seems like even their numerous children are not enough. Obi-Wan nurses other younglings from the Crèche, babies given to the Temple still drinking milk, and at the beginning, the brothers don’t really like it, their mate nursing other children, but they say nothing. Their lover’s body, their lover’s choice. It’s when Obi-Wan begins to pump the milk that it starts. He’s on their bed, wearing only leggings, and really impressive: not exactly surprising, because in his primary uterus, twin girls are growing, and should be born in less than a month, and in the secondary , Bant confirmed two day ago than three embryos are entering seventh week. “With hyperfertily, multiple embryos will become the norm” had explained Bant, “And the time between a birth and the subsequent heat will significantly reduce.”

Sometimes, late in the night, they talk about the third uterus, the more vestigial. It’s rarer, even with a lot of mates, that that one start working. Even the second one is very rare on modern worlds, considered sometimes quite uncivilized, but Obi-Wan never did anything the way people thought he should. It’s been five years since the end of the war and they now have six children, with five more on the way.

Those nights, they try to count how many children they could plant in his belly, if the third uterus started a heat too, but they’re too many variables and the discussion always have such a strong effect on Obi-Wan that they always end like that: their Omega on his knees, lose limbed from pleasure, painted in seed from all the brothers that came on him, and mounted, again and again, until his body gapes open and need a plug.

 

“How big you would be…I don’t think you could walk. We could keep you in bed all day, pumping you full of more children. Just there, growing, glowing, and taking knot all days…You would never be empty. Always our pups in you and our knots” Longshot would pledge against freckles and Obi-Wan would whine…

But even if it hasn’t worked, yet, he’s big, round, perfect, and so fertile, so full of life, his body is producing so much milk, so much that the six babies, four from his body and two from the Crèche, that are still nursing right now can’t drink everything, and Bant offered him a pump.

“This is really strange.” Obi-Wan remarks, trying to find a way to keep the pump in place and use his holopad at the same time. A good part of his days are devoted to his fertility this days, getting fucked all over their apartment, caring for his children and so much naps due to the pregnancy, and he likes to multitask when he can.

Cody growls, an animal sound, but how could he not, with this vision of fertility? Obi-Wan has nursed their children and two little ones from the Crèche, and just finished, and his body is still giving milk. For an Alpha, it’s irresistible. The sound makes Obi-Wan’s pupils dilate and then he closes his eyes because the kiss that his mate gives him is so intense he would swoon.

Hands are already attacking the leggings, and Boil just have the time to rescue the holopad before it fells on the floor.

“Just wait a minute, the pump.”

“You can keep it.” Cody bites lightly against the mating mark, earning a long shiver.

“It’s fitting.” He pushes two fingers in their mate, earning himself a helpless moan. Obi-Wan is wet, as always, his body already half open, a sign of his state of hyperfertility. “More efficient. Working on feeding our pups, when I put others in you.”

Lower, his voice a growl: “Good mate. You’re a good mate…perfect, fertile. You’re gonna let us pump more pups in you? With all that milk, you need more pups. It’s like you were made for that. More pups, more milk. Made for us. I can wait until your third womb is ready for seed. Our perfect mate. Gonna knot you good, until you’re dripping seed.”

And Obi-Wan, the man who was never chosen, who fought for a Master, for a braid, for everything in his life, moans again.

He has forgotten the pump, but Boil is already leaning on him, keeping it in place, kissing Obi-Wan. More hands help him and he’s on all fours, Boil kissing him, then Waxer, then Longshot, trading his mouth between them for hard, hungry kisses and murmuring sweet things, delicious things, about his mouth, his throat, about the noises he makes, about his tight hole, warm and welcoming and wet, and the children he will give them… Cody pushes in to the hilt, starts a hard rhythm, and Obi-Wan’s noises of delight are muffled by Waxer’s mouth.

The weight of the children in him hinders his movements, but it’s not a problem: Cody is ready to do all the work. He has lost sight of whose lover is touching which part of his body and someone is finally taking the pump, and he feels a mouth replace it, and teeth against his neck, on the mating scar, and Waxer pushes two fingers in his mouth…

When the knot forms, tying him, when he feels Cody starting to empty himself in his wombs, Obi-Wan yells around the fingers playing with his tongue and comes, without a hand on his cock.


	4. Nine years after the war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The clones didn’t have anything, were made to die but now… He sees it. The abundance of what the Force gave them. That beloved, beautiful, adored man. The belly, so big, so full. Their children.

Omega biology is a marvel. There is no other words for it and every day, Cody is thanking the Force, the Gods, or whoever is listening.

If Obi-Wan wasn’t an omega, his body wouldn’t handle so much sex. All survivors of Ghost Company in his bed! Desire or not, a beta’s body wouldn’t support so much penetration and as fun it is sometimes to play other ways, all the brothers are of the same opinion: never is Obi-Wan more beautiful that exhausted after the fifth knot in a row, voice hoarse from pleasure.

If he was a beta, he couldn’t bear them children. Without hyperfertility, he could give them one child every two years, at the maximum, because his body couldn’t handle more.

Their beautiful, beloved children, with his freckles and their hair, strong in the Force and so cherished.

They would be happy that way too, of course. Their love is not about their designation and Cody is sure they would have fallen in love with Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan with them, if he was a beta, or an alpha like them.

But it’s so good like that. So perfect. Their happy little family. Not so little anymore, of course.

It’s been teen years since they started seeing each other, nine years since the war finished, eight years since their first child’s conception, seven years since Obi-Wan’s body entered hyperfertility.

The sixth last years, Obi-Wan has been pregnant, always, again and again, his secondary womb starting to quicken with seed when his first was already full of children, and then his first making him enter heat when the children from the secondary were almost ready to be born…and then his third womb started working, kicked active by the chemicals in his blood.

Too much sex: his body thinks Obi-Wan is the only surviving omega of a big population and is trying to repopulate.

Yes, Omega biology is a marvel. Cody is half dressed: he just got out of the shower after a long day teaching hands to hands, and he’s supposed to put on a shirt and go help care for the children but….

Just another minute admiring the view. Obi-Wan is on the bed, on his side, napping. For the first time, he’s bearing children in his three wombs at the same time, something the healers didn’t think possible. Twin boys in the first one. The healers will inducing labour next week, if it doesn’t start itself. A little girl in the second. And three children in the third, too soon to know more yet. He’s gigantic, he has never been more perfect. He’s naked and Cody can see _everything._

The clones didn’t have anything, were made to die but now… He sees it. The abundance of what the Force gave them. That beloved, beautiful, adored man. The belly, so big, so full. _Their_ children. The milk leaking. It’s always more or less leaking these days, even if Obi-Wan nurses their children until two years old, and all the compatible young ones in the Creche, still pumping milk that the Temple gives to dispensary. Obi-Wan’s mouth is half open in his sleep, and Cody can see the piercing that their lover had made for their fourth anniversary. At the beginning, Cody didn’t understood why, but Obi-Wan kneeled with a wink and Cody understood quickly after that.

He’s sure that if he took the risk to wake up the sleeping man, if he searched between his legs, he would find him wet. Wet for them, ready to be taken, but also wet of them: Longshot was leaving the fresher when Cody entered it, with a warm towel. That brother always loved quickie in the afternoon. He was probably here with Venom, too, those brothers are inseparable. Cody can imagine it so well, for all the times he has seen it: Obi-Wan on his side, Longshot behind, his hand playing with the nipples, and Obi-Wan’s face lost in ecstasy, whimpering in pleasure, when the knot forms, hot bursts of come filing him. And Venom, sitting near Obi-Wan’s head on the bed. Perhaps fucking the redhead’s throat. Perhaps only touching himself, before painting their lover’s lips in his come.

Cody feels himself harden in his pants.

They had nothing and now….

Obi-Wan’s eyes open, still full of sleep, like he had sensed him.

“Cody?” He looks warm, inviting and Cody leans on him, kissing his lips slightly.

The brothers almost paid the ultimate price for that chance but when their lover’s mouth opens under him, Cody, like always, is sure they would again take all the risks for this life.

Darth Sidious never had a chance, may his soul rot in the afterlife, because his dreams of power were measured against the most precious treasure in the world, Obi-Wan Kenobi’s love.


	5. 14 years after the war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boil lets his bags outside their bedroom, to sort later. It’s very early but his spouse and his brothers are early risers by nature, more since they have children. And yes, they’re awake, more or less, when he enters their bedroom. Five brothers are still sleeping, or enjoying morning tea in bed, eying the show with appreciative gaze.

The Living Force is so strong in their family quarters that Jedi feel a pleasant buzz walking in it, Boil heard. He can’t himself fell it, of course he’s not Force Sensitive, but he knows there is _something_.

He just call it Love.

He took up a rotation on Search with a young Knight: ze was going to Ryloth and he wanted to see Numa. Still, after one month, a lot of comms or not, he’s happy to be home. He passes in the hallway the children’s rooms, then the big kitchen, and the little bedrooms that sometimes brothers use when they need to wake up early, or just because it's complicated to be all of Ghost Company in Obi-Wan's bed at the same time. There is one for Obi-Wan, of course, if he wants it, but in all his years, he never slept in another bed that in _their_ bed, with one, two, sometimes until ten brothers.

Boil lets his bags outside their bedroom, to sort later. It’s very early but his spouse and his brothers are early risers by nature, more since they have children. And yes, they’re awake, more or less, when he enters their bedroom. Five brothers are still sleeping, or enjoying morning tea in bed, eying the show with appreciative gaze. The room has a peaceful, happy atmosphere, with its light blue walls and the dawn’s light cascading on the bed, the bed that two of the most skilled brothers made especially for that room, and their family, probably the biggest bed in the galaxy, to shelter their love.

Cody is sitting on the immense bed, leaning against the wall, Obi-Wan in his lap, his back against his lover’s chest, his neck under Cody’s mouth. The sheets are pooling around them, dissimulating them, but between the position, the way Obi-Wan is pliable, abandoned against his lover’s shoulder, his cheeks red, his eyes brilliant….Morning sex and Cody is still pumping their lover full of seed, his knot tying them and his hands caressing Obi-Wan’s belly, already bursting from life. The Jedi is pregnant, as he has been for almost eleven long, perfect years, a future daughter only five weeks of birth in his primary uterus and twins boys, conceived three months before, in his secondary. That’s one of the reasons Boil was so eager to come home: if the cycle is normal, regular, and he always is, Obi-Wan should be in heat in five days, his tertiary uterus ready again for their seed….

He will be glorious, awkward for the weight and begging for more, for their children, their knots, their seeds, begging them to take their pleasure in him. It’s the only time where he lubricates enough to take two knots at the same time, and Boil never find him more beautiful: almost non-verbal from pleasure, used and worshipped, semen dripping from his hole, covering his lips. He’s never more glorious: heavy from children, milk, pleasure, so trusting and so loved, two brothers tying him, a third feeding him his seed or his cock, and still whining for more, until he loses all senses of himself, trusting them enough to let himself reduces to his bare biology, an Omega mounted by his Alphas, his body milking their seeds …

“Everybody is decent?” a voice asks from behind Boil and Cody arranges the sheets a little better. Waxer enters the room, his arms full: little Mesh'la , four months old, and that little Weequay that Adi Gallia brought to the Temple last month, only two months old and already bearing scars, because his parents were frightened of floating toys. Boil takes Melshl’a and his brother and him come to the bed, kisses Obi-Wan, help the children against him, using some of the pillows to prop them up. Soon, the two of them are nursing, something that fascinates Boil, even now, ten years after he saw for the first time Obi-Wan nursing their elder daughter, now twelve years old and Depa Billaba’s Padawan.

“How was your trip?” his lover asks, smiling, their perfect, beloved lover, so big, nursing the children and still getting a full belly of future and Boil find himself kissing him against instead of answering. The mouth under his smells of tea, Cody probably brought him breakfast in bed before fucking him, and it opens without prompting, encouraging a long and deep kiss. He hopes Obi-Wan has nothing pressing this morning, because the second the children are out of the room and Cody disengages, he’s rolling him onto his belly and taking his turn until their Jedi has a hoarse voice from screaming his name.


End file.
